Monster
by Joker is Poker with a J
Summary: We stopped checking for monsters under the bed when we realized they were inside of us. "I don't know you but I know what you did to her."
1. Part One The Monster

_**Monster**_

**_Summary:_**_** We stopped checking for monsters under the bed when we realized they were inside of us. "I don't know you but I know what you did to her."** _

** A/N: Playlist for this story includes: Monster by Paramore, Holy Water by Big and Rich, We Build Then We Break by The Fray, and Fix You by Coldplay.**

_Part One- The Monster_

What is a monster? Is it a figment of a child's imagination; the thump in the night, the evil lurking beneath the bed? Or is it a piece of a soul that is rotting away inside us, too dark and too sinister for us to accept? Can it be innate in each of us, programmed into our very DNA? Or are we shaped by our environment?

For some, that little piece of the soul can easily be over-looked or hidden until we grow old and die. That dark spot dying with us, unfulfilled. For others, it is a cancer that is ever spreading larger; enveloping the good that was there long before someone even realizes they had a choice.

Joey Ramiro was just such a person. In his case, it's not clear whether it was genetics or the environment. Perhaps, it was a bit of both or maybe he never even had a chance.

Once, when he was dispatching a person for his boss, a gang leader by the name of Ronnie Minnelli, the man cursed him, calling him a "godless bastard whoreson" and Joey paused for a moment to consider the man before him.

"Well, ya. Ise guess that sums it up." He told the man, just the smallest bit surprised before he let him go, watching with cold, dead eyes as the man disappeared into the depths of the East River. Briefly, he wondered how the man had pinned him so easily. Buried in his past was a faint memory of the woman who had been his mother, a prostitute who had been raped by the man who was legitimately his father. Joey only knew that his father had been killed sometime later, as retribution from her hustler for not paying for (and knocking up) his best girl. Does a person ever really know if they're the villain? Joey didn't think he was, he didn't usually think at all. He wasn't stupid, but he did what his boss told him to do. It was what got him to be the second in command, a big thing for a man who was only nineteen. When he wasn't doing what Ronnie Minnelli ordered, he was usually doing things he liked. That mainly involved drinking, smoking, and women. Joey _wasn't_ stupid, but he knew how to get what he wanted and if asking, bribery, or threats didn't work he didn't mind taking what he wanted.

It just so happens that on the same night that man met a watery ending, Joey took the night off to indulge in the things he liked. This decision would ultimately affect the course of his life. Whether his high-risk lifestyle played a part in his death or whether the fates had dealt him a short-hand the day he was born is as hard to determine as was the reason for the monster inside him.

**A/N: Truthfully, I'm writing this to get out of my funk. Hopefully, this works. This was going to be a one shot for the lovely xxWicked Wench, but it was far too long. So, it'll be a short story. Four chapters at the MOST. ****Just so you know, it WILL be kind of graphic in the next chapter. **

**Truly,**

**Joker is Poker with a J~**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize in this story belongs to it's respective owners and I am only borrowing to amuse myself and those who choose to read it. **


	2. Part Two The Innocent

**_Monster_**

_Summary:__ We stopped checking for monsters under the bed when we realized they were inside of us. "I don't know you but I know what you did to her."  
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**A/N: WARNING: this chapter contains RAPE. If you don't like, don't read. Playlist for this story includes: Monster by Paramore, Holy Water by Big and Rich, We Build Then We Break by The Fray, and Fix You by Coldplay.**

_Part Two- The Innocent_

The universe is made entirely of contradictions, massed together to give equal balance. For every bit of lightness, there is darkness. There is a life to every death, a right to every wrong, and an up to every down. To keep the universal balance, people with pure hearts are put in this world to compensate for the monsters.

Unfortunately, some monsters prey especially on these golden souls. Wicked, as she was known amongst the newsies, was the good to Joey Ramiro's evil. She believed that everyone was beautiful as they were, and she was always up for harmless mischief with her best friend Joker. The two were nigh inseparable. But, as fate would have it, she was alone the night she came across Joey. Joker had long since gone back to Brooklyn, tired from the day of selling. Wicked, however, had stayed just a tad longer. It was, of course, because of a certain newsboy that had been steadily wooing her since the strike the month before. Every time she thought of Swifty, she felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

So engrossed in her musings of the dark-haired newsie was she that it escaped her notice when a figure cut across the street, making a beeline to cut her off before she reached the Brooklyn Bridge. When she did realize there was someone in front of her, she was nearly stumbling into them. "Apologies." She murmured, stepping to the left to move around the hulking figure.

He, for it was without a doubt a man, moved to his right at the same time, stopping her, he opened his mouth and as he did she caught the strong smell of liquor on his breath. She held her own breath as he leaned down to say, "My fault, miss." Wicked nodded, feeling the smallest jab of annoyance laced with the tiniest bit of fear. She stepped to the right to once more go around him and again he did the same movement, blocking her from going around.

"Excuse me." She told him, slightly braver than she felt. He was, after all, much taller and his shoulders were broad making her feel tiny and weak.

"Sorry, miss." He replied, but there was a note of amusement she didn't miss. Taking her fear and turning it into courage, she feinted one way and as he went that way, she quickly changed direction and slipped past him. For a moment, she believed she was home free as he stumbled, his mind muddled with the alcohol as he looked around in confusion for her. She wasn't stupid, she hurried down the street as fast as she could without running because she knew her footsteps would echo between the buildings and she did not need him following her.

In front of her, looming in the fog and just barely visible, was the Brooklyn Bridge. It rose up, a silent giant waiting for her; a beacon leading her home. She focused on it and ignored the footsteps that had begun behind her. Wicked felt her heart quicken in double time as her feet followed not far behind. Once she was across the bridge, there would be Spots' birds to look out for her. In Manhattan, there was no security like that. Why hadn't she allowed Swifty to walk her this far? But, he had looked exhausted and he'd bought her food at Tibby's, so she had thought it was only right that he get a full night's sleep.

Panic began to set in as she felt him get closer and it seemed as if the bridge was a million miles out of reach. She began to full out run, knowing that no matter how many small fights she'd been in with Joker, nothing she knew could protect her from this giant. A block away, she was almost there. She pushed harder, knowing that this could be a matter of life and death. Fear as she'd never known was pulsing through her veins, urging her onward. It wasn't enough. Her gut twisted in mindless terror as a rough hand grabbed her upper arm, her momentum from running being used to swing her around and straight into his hard body. Roughly, he pulled her halfway into the alley before her brain took control and she began to fight him even though it was stranger struck her hard with the back of his hand and she felt herself falling…

Falling…

Falling…

For a moment, her vision grew fuzzy. Sluggishly, she tried to push him away but she was powerless. His dirty hand covered her mouth as he used the other to pull off her trousers. She felt the smallest bite of satisfaction at the fact that she never wore dresses, that he had more work in her boy clothes. It was short-lived satisfaction. Silent tears began to stream down her face as she felt herself slip away from the events that began to happen. She hovered over the scene for the briefest of seconds before she turned her head and gazed down the street where the Brooklyn Bridge was just visible.

What he was doing…she couldn't let her mind accept it. It was as if she were locking out the feelings of the cold ground beneath her, the heavy weight pressing on top of her, and the breathing right by her ear. Just a short time ago, she was talking to Swifty. They had been sitting out on the stoop in front of the lodging house, talking about anything. She focused her attention of every detail of that time with him rather than the here and now. The way his dark hair had fallen into his eyes and she had reached out to brush it back without a thought. "I bet ya sell papes like mad in Brooklyn." He'd teased, bumping her shoulder with his.

She'd given him a smirk that could rival Spot Conlon's, "Joker and I are…newspaper selling machines." Wicked returned his shoulder bump with one of her own. He'd laughed, making her smile.

Cringing, she felt bile rise to her throat as her memory of Swifty's laugh mingled with the laughter of the man above her as he pulled away and she was hit with the cold air. "Joey Ramiro gets anothah girl." He said to himself, taking no notice of her as he righted his clothes and stumbled onto the sidewalk. A streetlamp caught his profile and then gave her a glimpse of his face as he glanced back. His dark eyes were hard, deadened and they were sunken into his face in a way that was at odds with his broad shoulders and bulky physique.

Slowly, she slipped back into herself but found she was unable to move. Paralyzed with the fading fear and the inability to fully comprehend what had just happened. She'd been…been taken advantage of. Defiled. Her body… Sitting up just enough, Wicked leaned over and vomited. Wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt, she fixed her clothes and crawled farther into the alley where she couldn't be seen from street. Tears were still streaming down her face as she huddled next to a pile of garbage, her mind numb and blank as she began to sob as she hadn't let herself before. A strange hopelessness filled her. Time passed. Wicked was unaware of how much exactly but it was the darkest time of night when footsteps sounded nearby. She tried to stifle the sobbing but it only seemed to get louder.

"Wicked?"It was a voice as familiar as the name it spoke and from somewhere inside of her, she responded with a cry that was half despair, half hope. It broke the silence and she was stunned to realize how loud it was. A curse was heard as the person seemingly stumbled into the alley, "Spot! Over here!" Wicked's hands shook as she tried to wipe away the tears before Joker got there. It was useless, Joker arrived a second after she'd raised her hands, her face concerned as she took in the scene in front of her. "Wicked, what in God's name…"Her twin reached out to take her arm and Wicked flinched back. It was reflex, although she knew there was no one else in the world least likely to hurt her than the girl in front of her. Joker swore before crouching down, "Shhh, love. Come here. It's going to be alright. I'll take care of you." Her soft voice brought more tears to Wicked's eyes before she allowed her to pull her into her arms.

Joker smoothed back her blonde hair, whispering words of comfort until a second person joined them, "What happened?" The authoritative, deep voice of Spot Conlon sent waves of fear running up Wicked's spine as she tensed up.

"I don't know. But, you're scaring her." Joker replied, her tone still soothing, despite the reprimand behind it.

Wicked clung to Joker, the tears beginning to fade as exhaustion slipped into her bones, "Jo…" She tried to give his name before the darkness crept up but that was all she could manage before she slipped into darkness.

Joker felt her friend go limp in her arms and she cast a look towards the Brooklyn leader, "Spot…" Tears gathered in her eyes as the reality of the situation slammed into her, "I think we were a little late."

Spot crouched down, fear flitting for a split second in his eyes as he saw the girl go limp and thought the worse, "What?"

Clenching her jaw, she forced the words out, "She was…raped."

**Truly,**

**Joker is Poker with a J~**


	3. Part Three The Man Who Loved Her

_**Monster**_

_Summary:__ We stopped checking for monsters under the bed when we realized they were inside of us. "I don't know you but I know what you did to her."_

Sidenote: For xxWickedWench. Playlist for this story includes: Monster by Paramore, Holy Water by Big and Rich, We Build Then We Break by The Fray, and Fix You by Coldplay.

_Part Three- The Man Who Loved Her_

Usually, at moments like this, Swifty's heart would begin to race uncontrollably, almost jumping out of his chest as she neared him. Her hips swaying slightly, a motion she had never been consciously aware of while her blue eyes looked large and imploring as she approached him. Her golden hair would be a halo around her head as the sun shown from behind her, giving her an angelic look that could never coincide with her natural mischievousness.

Except, as she walked towards him her eyes slipped past him and stared ahead as she walked on by making him realize that her hips swayed too much to be _his_ girl; her hair wasn't nearly as light as Wicked's, either, nor were her eyes even blue. He felt his shoulders sag in disappointment. Day in and day out, he waited for her to come around but lately he'd not seen hide or hair of her.

He sold the last few papes he had and ignored the creeping sense that something was wrong. Just as he thanked an elderly woman for taking the last newspaper, he turned around in time to come face to face with Joker.

The feeling in his gut intensified as he glanced around for Wicked. But, it was only Joker, looking a little worse for wear; hair a bit of a mess, an anxious look that was uncommon on her face, and dark circles beneath her eyes. She spoke a soft greeting as if she were scared someone would catch her talking to him, "Swifty."

"Joker? Whatsamattah?" He asked, stealing a quick glance around to see if maybe Wicked was just hiding. Perhaps he should have gone to Brooklyn and visited her, made an effort to go out of his way to see her. _Of course, you should have! You're so stupid!_ He mentally berated himself.

"It's…it's Wicked."

At once, he was on his guard as that sense of wrongness filled him again. What had happened? Was she alright? Was she sick…? His stomach dropped at the thought of Wicked no longer being in this world. "Joker, tell me what's wrong."

She shifted, glanced around, and pulled him into a nearby alley. It was odd to see one of the twins take care in how they worded their speech because more often than not they weren't afraid to tell it like it was. That was perhaps the reason that things seemed even worse than he was currently imagining. "Listen, I know she hasn't visited you in the last two weeks. It's 'cause…well, on her way home from Manhattan that night?" He nodded, remembering the last time they'd spent together easily as Joker paused. Her face turned a little green, as if what she had to say made her sick and at the same time, tears began to glisten in her eyes, "On her way home, you see, a man…h-he raped her, Swifty."

Swifty took a step back, blown away by this statement. Of all the things he'd been expecting, that hadn't been one of them. It wasn't something that happened to strong females like Wicked and Joker, especially when they were as beloved to the newsies as these two were. "Wha-are you serious?" Swifty asked his brain uncomprehending. But, when he met her solemn, blue gaze and watched as she nodded her head, he felt his stomach fall even further before it was quickly replaced my anger.

Scorching, red-hot anger. It covered up the guilt that stewed in the pit of his belly, because he _should_ have made sure she had made it safely to Brooklyn. "Can you take me to her?" He asked, but determined to go whether or not Joker agreed.

She blew out a breath and looked uneasy, "Well, Swifty, the thing is…she's not doing well. She won't let any of the guys near her, except Spot."

He ran a hand through his hair, "Can I try?" He almost pleaded, looking imploringly at Joker.

She nibbled on her lip for a moment before she nodded her head, "I'll let you try." Joker seemed to know that he had to do that at the very least.

The trip to Brooklyn was quiet between the two, both lost in thought. Joker was worried, because Spot had expressly forbidden anyone from telling outsiders what had happened to Wicked, especially Swifty. Spot seemed to blame the entire situation on him, but Joker believed he should know the truth about why Wicked hadn't been back in Manhattan.

He wasn't the only one that laid blame on Swifty. The entire way to Wicked, Swifty stewed in his anger and guilt. What had he been thinking, letting her walk back on her own? He wasn't a child; he knew what was out there, hiding in the dark underbelly of New York. The least he could do was go see her, see if there was anything he could do to help and to make up for his mistake.

Joker sighed as they crossed into Brooklyn, knowing Spot would show up long before they reached the Lodging House. She was right. A block from the building, Spot came strolling up to them, his lightning blue eyes flashing with fury that he'd never permit anyone to notice unless he wanted them to. "Joker. Swifty." He greeted, coolly.

She met his gaze, "He had a right to know." Was all she said, knowing that defying him could get her all kinds of hell but at the same time being too tired to care. Spot wasn't the one sharing a room with Wicked, wasn't the one comforting her in the middle of the night when she woke up from the night terrors. He certainly didn't know about how, before Wicked would begin thrashing in terror, she'd murmur softly for Swifty to come to her, to save her.

He didn't have to sell with her during the day, to see the way she tensed when any male came near her, or the way she'd get a funny look on her face as she remembered some part of the frightening reality that had been that night. Spot Conlon didn't know what it was like to see your other half, your best friend, become some stranger in the matter of a few hours.

Spot continued to gaze at the pair, his eyes shifting from one to another, "Didn't I tell ya I didn't want any outsidah's ta know?"

"Yes."

A slim eyebrow quirked up but if Spot knew anything, it was which battles to pick, "Awright, take him to her."

Without replying, she stepped around him, holding onto his gaze challengingly before heading towards the lodging house and Wicked. She led Swifty up the flight of stairs, aware that Spot was keeping close behind them, and finally moved to turn the doorknob. For a moment, she almost just threw open the door but caught herself at the last second. "Hang on." She told the two before slipping inside.

Sure enough, Wicked was lying on her bed gazing at the bottom of the mattress above her and looking quite unkempt. Blonde hair tangled, clothes dirtier than they usually allowed them, and dark bruises beneath her eyes, identical to her twins'.

"Wicked?" She spoke softly because the last two weeks she noticed that any little sound could scare her friend.

"Hey, Joke." The blonde's gaze didn't even waver from the bottom of the bunk, as if the secret to life were written there.

Joker hesitated, unsure how to deal with this shattered person she barely recognized as her best friend. "Some-I brought someone here to see you. Are you up for it?"

At this, Wicked sat up and faced her counterpart. "Who?"

"Swifty." Wicked answered her own question as the name left Joker's mouth and for a second it was almost like old times. "Yeah." Joker added, glancing back at the closed door as if she could see him beyond it.

She sat up and smoothed out her shirt, "Well, send him in." She directed Joker, as if she were about to have a business meeting. It was an odd moment, as if the old Wicked was there and yet it wasn't how she would act at all.

It made Joker hesitate for the briefest moment…then, slowly, she opened the door and gestured Swifty in. She had planned on staying inside, but as Swifty entered the room, Wicked met her gaze, "Give us some privacy?"

She didn't want to. Joker was acutely aware of how Wicked's nostrils were flaring, how her blue eyes were widened in fright, or how her hands, clasped on her lap, were tightening around each other. They were all signs of one of Wicked's panic attacks.

"Go." Wicked bit out, her eyes narrowing as if she were determined to go through this despite the horror that was fast consuming her.

Swifty cast Joker a look of uneasiness, but he nodded his head to her as he shut the door on her and Spot. He took a breath before he turned back, cautiously, trying not to scare Wicked. For a moment, he took in the differences between the girl in front of him and the one he remembered from the last time they were together. No longer was she smiling, or looking as bright as the sun; now it seemed as if darkness clung around her, her blue eyes tired and weary. Not only had her body been raped, but her soul as well.

He suppressed a shiver as she stood to face him head on, "Swifty." She spoke his name with only a touch of a tremor.

That small show of weakness made him step forward and pull her into a hug. It was probably the wrong thing to do; a bold and rash decision that could cause her to lose trust in him, but he couldn't resist the urge.

She tensed immediately and began to thrash. His instinct was to wrap his arms tighter around him, but a small voice in the back of his head told him to let her go. He dropped his arms, letting her catch her balance as they both took a step back.

It was one of the worst feelings he had ever had. Seeing someone he had long since been in love with turned into a completely different person by an unfortunate event. It scared him, how little he could see of the old Wicked in this person before him. He longed to ask her what happened, who did it, and he felt a quick bite of rage tear through him as he imagined what he would do to the man who destroyed the woman he'd loved. His fists clenched at his side as he stared at Wicked, trying not to alarm her with his anger but unable to contain the hate that was rolling through his veins, poisoning his logical side.

Wicked stared at him silently with those blue eyes as clear as the summer sky before she took a breath and opened her mouth, "I'm cold." She looked surprised at the admission; as if she had been planning on saying a lie and the truth came out.

"Can I get ya a blanket?" He asked, looking around for an extra cover.

She shook her head, "No, not that kind of cold…an empty coldness. Right here." Slowly, she lifted up her hand and put it on her chest. And then she was gone, her eyes turning to gaze inward at the scar upon her soul that had disrupted her life, "Swifty…I feel soul-sick. Like…nothing can ever fix me."

He swallowed back the lump that rose in his throat as the truth slipped from her lips and his entire heart ached to heal her. "I'll fix you."

The promise rang in through the room just as it rang to the depths of his soul.

**A/N: Took me forever. I know. This short story will have one more chapter and then it'll be over! Thank you to all of you who have reviewed! Let me know what you think of Swifty seeing Wicked!  
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**Truly,  
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**Joker is Poker with a J~  
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**Dislcaimer: I own nothing you recognize.  
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